How to Mess Things Up
by Silk Weaver
Summary: Cid has talent at being a bastard. Valenwind.


Author's Note: ... I did not remember that I hadn't posted this here. Oops. Well, at least I'm doing this now. It's a Valenwind story that I wrote as a birthday present for my friend (am I allowed to call her that? ///) Calvi_Sama on Livejournal.

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**How to Mess Things Up**

****It wasn't often that Cid woke up slowly any more. Fighting instinct had turned him into a generally light sleeper, and finally having at least something in his day to look forward to had turned Cid into an early riser. He didn't usually drift awake, and it had been a while since he actually hadn't wanted to wake up in the morning.

Then again, he hadn't woken up in this much pain for a while, either.

He was lying half propped up with pillows, probably foresight on someone's part, since Cid refused to be an invalid if it was at all possible, especially not when-

_When the Highwind was damaged_. Cid let his head fall back against the headboard with a groan. His poor baby had crashed in the middle of the Nibel Mountains. He could remember something going wrong- seeing the mountains rush up at him, and trying to control the ship- then small flashes of awareness, mostly filled with pain. It wasn't as bad now, which meant that they had probably given him medication, or used materia. His arm was covered in a heavy cast, and there were bandages on his head and torso. There weren't many signs of the crash in his cabin, only a few things that had been knocked over. The level floor meant that the crew had done something about it, but they couldn't have fixed everything so soon. They needed to get up in the air again, and they couldn't do that while he was just lying around. Wincing at the aches all over his body, Cid began to maneuver himself out of bed.

Just as he was about to stand the door opened to let in Vincent, who was surprisingly dressed down and carrying a mug. Vincent only paused for a moment before stepping into the room and closing the door fully. "You shouldn't get up," he said in his soft voice. "You're still hurt."

For a moment, Cid only stared at him in surprise. "How the hell did you get into my room?"

Hesitantly, Vincent held up a key. "You gave it to me," he offered as an explanation for it.

"Th' hell? I don't remember that." When Cid moved as if to come over and examine it, Vincent shook his head and put it away.

"You shouldn't move around so much," Vincent said. "Your injuries are the worst of the crew."

Cid sat back down on the bed even as he opened his mouth to argue. "Vin, I can't just stay in here when the ship's down!" he argued. "I need to start doing repairs so that we can get the Highwind flying again."

Vincent set down the mug on the bedside table before turning to Cid, his face cold and blank. "Your arm is broken. You can't do anything with tools with only one hand, and your ribs are bruised. There is no way that you will accomplish anything in that state."

The tone was more clipped than Vincent's usual voice, and the refutations only riled Cid up more. "I'll still do a damn sight more than I would just sitting here on my ass waiting for other people to fix it," he snarled. He rose to his feet, despite how unsteady his legs were, and shoved past Vincent to put on a shirt and grab his toolbox, even when bending over to grab it made his eyes water with pain. He didn't look back, or wait for Vincent to say anything else. He simply stormed out.

Hours of work had done nothing to improve Cid's mood. He hadn't gotten much work done at all, and the pain had come back as he had worked, until it was nearing the point of unbearable. The most productive thing he had managed was giving directions to the crew for their own work. He felt useless, and he hated it. He just wanted to go back to his cabin, sleep it all off and forget that the whole crash had ever happened.

Instead, he found Vincent waiting outside of the door of his cabin, now in cloak and headband. Cid almost turned around and went back to trying to make repairs to avoid him. If Vincent said anything like "I told you so," Cid was going to take a swing at him, broken arm or not. He didn't need how useless he was rubbed into his face, but Vincent didn't say anything, so Cid simply stormed past him into his room, intending to strip and go to bed. He was just starting to pull his shirt off when a sound from the doorway caught his attention. He turned around to glare at Vincent. "Why the fuck are you in here for?" he growled.

In response, Vincent held out a green orb. "A full cure materia," he explained, his voice still emotionless. "Since you insist on continuing to work despite your injuries."

Grumbling, Cid walked over, looking impatient. "Why the hell didn't you get it earlier?" he complained, as the spell washed over him. The feeling of strength returning to his limbs and all of his aches and pains fading made him grin, and as soon as he could he pulled off the heavy brace on his arm and the bandages around his torso. Suddenly energized, he grabbed his toolbox again and hurried to the door. "Finally!" He said, satisfied. "Vince, you go do something actually useful, and stop hanging around in my room!" he called over his shoulder as he departed for the engine room once again.

"Cid, have you seen Vincent?"

The pilot glanced up from his repairs to look over at Cloud. "Nah, why?" he grunted, using a rag to rub oil off of his hands.

Cloud gave a small sigh and rubbed at his spikes. "I wanted to take a group out to find monsters, but I can't find Vincent. I thought you would know where he is, He usually hangs around you."

"I'm not his keeper. I haven't seen him since he healed me," Cid said, sounding peeved. "What he does is his own damn business."

"All right. See you later, then." Cloud said and walked away, leaving Cid to his work.

Cid hunched over his repairs again, giving an annoyed growl under his breath. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen the gunman at all since he had been healed. Vincent was never a social person, but Cid had gotten used to his silent presence and sly sense of humor. He'd been busy for the past few days, sure, but that shouldn't mean he didn't see Vincent at all. The former Turk hadn't been at any of the meals. Vincent wasn't _gone, _but he might as well have been, for all that Cid saw him. The thought occurred that maybe Vincent was actually avoiding him.

It didn't take long before the thoughts were circling around in his head so much that he was distracted from his work. Finally, he simply slammed his tools down and stalked from the room angrily. He wasn't going to look- If Vincent didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be found- but he couldn't keep working. Instead, he headed for his room. He'd left his cigarettes there, and maybe having a smoke would help him calm down a little.

Of all things, he did not expect to find Vincent outside of his room, looking just as surprised as he felt. "Hey, Vince," he said cautiously before the gunman could simply disappear into the ship again. "What's up?" He felt almost like he were trying to calm a scared chocobo, speaking in a quiet voice and not making any sudden movements.

Vincent's face fell blank again as a mask that carefully filtered out his emotions. "I came to give this back to you," he said stiffly. "You didn't seem to want me to have it any more."

Something was not right. Vincent's studiously blank face made it obvious, showed how much the gunman was trying _not _to care about handing the keys back over. Keys to Cid's room, that Cid had given him, if he remembered the conversation correctly. He couldn't remember actually doing so, but Vincent didn't lie. Cid felt as though there was a whole aspect to this conversation that he was missing, and that taking the keys back from Vincent would be a very bad idea. Still, he wasn't sure what else to do.

Instead of answering directly, Cid did his best to turn away from that line of conversation. "Vince, have you been avoiding me?" he asked, doing his best not to act accusing.

"I didn't think that you would want to see me." Vincent said, simply staring at him with his eerie red eyes.

Cid spluttered for a moment, surprised by Vincent's answer. "_Why?_" he yelped. "Fuck, Vince, what the hell did I do to give you that idea?"

Confusion seemed to be creeping through Vincent's mask. "I- when you were injured." he said hesitantly.

When he'd been injured? He'd only been acting grouchy as he usually was when hurt- but he had taken it all out on Vincent. he realized suddenly that Vincent had been there the whole time, offering to help him and keep him company, quietly reaching out to Cid, only to be shot down and shoved away. Cid felt sick. _Fuck,_ he hadn't even thanked him for healing him. He had just run off, shouting at Vincent to be useful. He could barely bring himself to look up at Vincent, who only looked more confused and concerned.

"Cid?" he asked, both wary and hesitant.

"Fuck, Vince, I'm so..." The words got caught in his throat, and he stepped forward to crush Vincent in a hug. "I'm such a bastard. I'm sorry," he mumbled against the gunman's shoulder.

Slowly, Vincent relaxed in the hug, though he didn't reciprocate it. "You don't need to apologize, Highwind," he said softly. "You were justified in your actions."

Incredulous, Cid glanced up at Vincent, realizing that he actually did blame himself for it, that he thought this all was his fault. Not only had Cid fucked up, but Vincent thought that he had done something to deserve it… It felt like a physical blow.

"I was being such an ass, Vince. You don't deserve ta get yelled at just 'cause I'm pissed." It had been such a stupid reason, too. "Next time that happens, tell me off, don't assume that it's you I'm mad at! I don't have any reason to be mad at you. 'Sides," he managed a small smile, "I need someone ta knock me down a peg once in a while."

Vincent stared at him for a moment, something slowly easing in his eyes and his stance. He wasn't drawing away and hiding his emotions any more, and that reassured Cid more than anything else. "Very well," Vincent acquiesced, with something that looked suspiciously like a smile on his face. "If that's what it takes, chief… I am more than willing to comply."


End file.
